


Just Sex

by neevebrody



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-19
Updated: 2009-11-19
Packaged: 2017-10-03 10:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neevebrody/pseuds/neevebrody
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a John/Rodney first time that takes place at the end of S1 and the beginning of S2 to the prompt: ...<i>when the expedition first goes to Atlantis, they believe it's going to be a one-way trip. I think this would 'cause people to act in certain ways that they normally wouldn't, thinking they were never going back. And a certain amount of stress/embarrassment would result when they found out that wasn't true anymore.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Sex

Just Sex

Rodney was quiet the first time John blew him, which was kind of surprising, what with Rodney normally being a bit of a chatterbox. Just a rush of breath, jerking hips and a hand clamped around John's upper arm.

It's something John thinks of at times like this, when it's just him and the city - Atlantis spread out on all sides - the soft beat of his running shoes barely audible above the sound of the ocean as he makes his way along the East Pier. He follows the same course he mapped out soon after arriving here and prefers this route whenever the weather permits. It's not that late and there are still a few people going about their business; good to see so many venturing outside again.

The looks he gets are different now - different from a few months ago when they'd all been sitting around waiting for the Wraith to show up. Teyla and Elizabeth had both assured him that no one really thought he was to blame, and he believed them… mostly.

He passes another small group of scientists. Yeah, the looks were different before. He was different. Rodney was different.

~~~~

That day, that first time, had started out like any other in the run up to the attack, busy coordinating evac plans and fielding reports from various sites. It was around lunch time when John realized he hadn't seen Rodney for a few days. Now that didn't immediately ping his radar because he knew the science teams were up to their asses trying to download and catalog as much intel as they could to send to the SGC. Zelenka mentioned he'd been in radio contact earlier that morning, but that Rodney hadn't checked in lately. Learning Rodney was on his own, John decided to go looking.

"McKay? This is Sheppard, do you read?" He tried twice more and was heading down a corridor to some of the labs they hadn't fully explored when an exasperated voice crackled in his ear.

"Working here."

"Where's here?"

"Tech lab, building C--"

"You're not supposed to be in that area alone, Rodney."

"So sue me, McKay out."

John grinned and turned around. He was in the wrong corridor.

When he opened the door to the second lab in C-building, the blue-green glow in the corner and the click of computer keys told him he'd found his mark. McKay was surrounded by computers, all rigged to a console in the far corner of the lab. As John stepped closer, he saw massive amounts of data scrolling over the monitors. "How long have you been down here?" John asked, looking over at the sleeping bag in the corner, then at the litter of sandwich and power bar wrappers and empty water bottles on a nearby lab table.

Rodney's shoulder jerked. "Couple of days."

John stepped forward and made a big production of sniffing the air.

Rodney looked up and scowled. "I've bathed, for god's sake. For some strange reason, there are almost as many bathrooms in this wing as there are labs." He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "One just down the hall, huge tub, you can practically swim in it. What's up?"

"Nothing, just haven't--uh, what is this place anyway?"

"It's a repository lab dedicated to energy and alternative energy sources. You wouldn't believe the amount of data here. It'll take me weeks to get through it--provided I have weeks."

John nodded.

"Even with my compression macro, I'm not sure we're going to be able to get it all in the transmission, but that won't be for lack of trying."

"I'm sure of that," John said, walking over to stand behind McKay. "You figure the SGC will use all this stuff to mount another expedition--you know, if we don't--"

"Actually, with such a small window to work with, I'm not even sure this will reach them. This could just be a huge piss in the wind."

"Or a Hail Mary."

"Well, yes," Rodney said over his shoulder, "if you must use football analogies, that fits too."

"That actually fits better," John needled, smiling at the back of Rodney's head.

"Whatever." Rodney turned, his face serious, then added, "Ford mentioned you weren't sending anything."

John bit his lip. "That's right. So, you leave anybody behind?" Rodney was looking at him like he expected John to say more, so John broke eye contact.

"Sister," Rodney said, turning back to his keyboard. "She's all the family I have left. And a cat. She's married--the sister, not the cat. I've never even met her husband, or seen her kid."

John looked around for another chair, and not finding one, sat down in the floor a few feet away, hands draped over his knees.

"I suppose this is nothing new for you. I mean being in the military you guys face this kind of thing…"

John shrugged. "Just another mission. You know, we'll probably make it, McKay. I'm not giving up yet."

"I know, I know. It's--we're just getting into some of this incredible technology and information… it's so unfair."

"Well, life's not fair… it's just fairer--"

"Oh please, spare me your encyclopedic recall of movie quotes," Rodney said, trying to disguise his chuckle with the roll of his eyes.

John smiled. "I only quote from the best." Yeah, it was cheesy, but it made Rodney smile.

"And yes, unfair, I haven't had nearly enough sex."

John snorted. "Can you have enough?"

"Good point." Rodney turned back to start another download. He watched Rodney's fingers dance over the keyboards. Those hands could be mesmerizing, long fingers that bent in quirky ways (like now), or cut gracefully through the air when he talked. "Right now, I'd just like to have any."

John didn't say anything, just shifted his gaze to the floor, a little surprised that McKay would feel comfortable talking to him about his love life.

"I really liked sex," Rodney sighed, "you know, back when I used to have it on a somewhat semi-regular basis. Way back."

Picking at the torn cuticle of his left thumb, John gave a little, "Hmm." The last thing he expected was a heart to heart with McKay, but maybe believing he was facing certain death lowered Rodney's _getting personal_ threshold or something.

"What? Don't you like sex?" Rodney adjusted a few of the crystals on the console.

"I love sex," John replied. He stole another glance at McKay and watched as he reached for the laptop balanced precariously on top of the console, the way his shoulders and upper arms strained and ironed out the wrinkles of his rumpled shirt.

Seemingly satisfied with his task, Rodney moved over to sit down beside John. He scrubbed a hand over his face and leaned back against the wall, letting out a weary breath. The shadow of stubble on Rodney's face was kind of attractive and John found himself staring. "Any prospects," he asked. "You've got almost two weeks."

Rodney shook his head. "Are you kidding? Everyone hates me--either that or they're terrified of me. I'm really not sure--"

"That's not true, McKay…" John picked at his thumb again and cut his eyes sideways. "I like you."

Rodney stared blankly for a moment, "Okay, that makes one person and I think Ford might like me and Teyla and maybe Elizabeth. So that's four. How about you? Prospects, I mean…"

"Nope."

Rodney sat up straight. "Oh bullshit. Are you serious?"

"What?"

"Nothing, I just… I mean you're a nice guy, a good looking guy, I figure you'd have to borrow one of Teyla's bantos sticks to beat them off with."

John smiled and ducked his head. He was definitely warming to McKay's openness and curious now just how far this might go. Rodney did say he'd like to have _any_.

They were quiet for a moment, then Rodney asked, "Have you… you know, since we've been here?"

John looked up and took a dangerous chance at honesty. "No."

Rodney's eyes widened in a look like he wasn't sure if John was telling the truth, or maybe like he believed John and was… relieved.

"You?"

"No." Rodney sighed, looking down at his hands.

John shifted his seat, thought about it for half a second more and went for his own Hail Mary. "You know, McKay, all this talk about sex… 's kinda making me…"

"Oh." Rodney's gaze shifted to John's crotch, then back and he mumbled, "Yeah, me too," before he clammed up and John knew he'd blown it, knew he'd spoken too soon. Then, "Maybe we could, uhm… you know a friend helping out another friend?"

John nodded. "Desperate times and all that, huh?" He couldn't help but grin at McKay's sudden eagerness, still certain it wasn't going anywhere. "What did you have in mind?"

Rodney didn't say anything at first, just held eye contact and reached for John, resting a hand on his bent knee. A hot jolt of adrenaline started John's heart pounding. He just stared at Rodney and sat back straighter against the wall.

"May I?" Rodney asked, nodding at the gap between John's legs. And, shit, asking permission was such a McKay thing to do, but it was also inexplicably, fucking hot.

All the kidding was gone; evaporated from the room like raindrops on sweltering asphalt. They were really going to do this. Blood rushed to fill John's cock as he licked his bottom lip and slowly lowered his right leg to the floor. A warm rush followed in the wake of Rodney's hand, up and over the curve of John's growing erection. He took a deep breath and tried to swallow.

"You're already hard," Rodney said, a little amazed.

That was one of the things he liked about Rodney, his innate need to state the obvious. The back of John's neck grew hot and his breath came faster as Rodney began to rub up and down over the drab gray fabric. John cleared his throat. "That might go a little easier if you…" He reached for his fly and could feel Rodney watching as he pulled the elastic band of his boxers down and lifted out his balls and cock. He glanced back over to Rodney who seemed to have forgotten his place until, wide-eyed, he gingerly curled his fingers around the shaft and tugged hesitantly, and Jesus, even that felt good. "I don't think you can break it, McKay."

His voice seemed to bring Rodney back. "Yeah, well, you know me. I mean, I have no idea here--"

"You jerk off, don't you?"

Rodney pulled a face. "Of course I do, but--"

"'s no different."

"There's a big difference." Rodney finally looked away from John's crotch and into his eyes. "I mean--I don't, I've never had--"

John was a little breathless when he asked Rodney if he wanted to stop. He could see the answer in Rodney's eyes even as his mouth formed the _"no"_ and his grip tightened. "Good," he said, "'cause you're doing just fine."

"I am?"

Hell yeah, that big square palm lipping over the sensitive ridge, the heat from it making John sweat… "Yeah."

After a few more minutes, John leaned hard against the wall, hands scrabbling at the floor. Rodney had gone quiet and John cut his eyes to take a look, wanted to take it all in, wanted it to be clear in his mind… the bulge between Rodney's legs, the way Rodney's bicep curved and stood out as his hand worked, Rodney's nipples, small and hard pressing against the blue knit fabric and the way the shirt stretched across Rodney's chest. John wanted to reach out, slide his hand beneath it to twist one of the tight nubs between his fingers. Instead, he swallowed hard and chewed the inside of his lip because holy fuck… Rodney McKay was a gnat's ass away from making him shoot all over his uniform.

"Oh wow, your dick just got harder," Rodney exclaimed, voice full of excited curiosity, like John was some really cool piece of Ancient tech, and John would probably have laughed any other time, but he was too busy coming.

He arched up into Rodney's hand with the first spasms, eyes squeezed so tight the black void behind them went white and all the breath he'd been holding rushed out in one short, harsh bark.

"My turn," Rodney announced, not even waiting for John to catch his breath.

John cracked an eye open and saw Rodney eagerly unzipping and pushing his pants around his hips, then got a look at Rodney's dick. He tried not to stare, but damn, he could all but feel the weight of it on his tongue.

Rodney was looking at him. "There," he said, eyes shifting from his crotch to John and back, like he'd just presented a proof for consideration and John couldn't hold back his grin.

He pushed himself off the wall. "Uh uh," he said tucking himself back in.

The look on McKay's face was pitiful, but before he could work himself up to full splutter, John was between his legs, forearms bracketing his hips, licking up the underside of that smooth, hard shaft before swallowing it down. Rodney didn't have a whole lot to say after that, but he did seem to accept the change in circumstances gracefully.

~~~~

John heads back now, circling the wharf on the opposite side of the East Pier. Raising his face to the night air, he lets the metallic tang of the seawater fill his nostrils and sting his skin as the breeze licks away the sweat. The pain in his shin from a few miles back is finally gone, lungs working in time with his pace, like an efficient engine.

For those days leading up to the siege, even among all the serious shit going on, they behaved like hormonal teenagers, making use of every out of the way storeroom, vacant lab and remote area they could find. Living on stimulants and adrenaline, trying, as McKay put it, to "stuff a lifetime of sex into their last few days." Hand jobs, blowjobs, rolling around on top of one another, and it had all been pretty good.

They didn't talk about what they were doing; it was just sex after all. At least that's what he thought Rodney thought. At least until Rodney asked for more.

~~~~

"I think you give great blow jobs, Rodney." John rolled up off his bunk and sat on the edge next to McKay. Rodney had just come from a meeting with Zelenka. Carson must have given him another dose, because he was more agitated than usual, eyes darting around the room. Clearly a man with something on his mind.

"Yes, and so do you, I'm not complaining, I just… wouldn't you like to do something different? You know, we don't know how much time we've got left, and--"

"There you go, talking like we're already defeated."

"Okay, yes, I know," he turned to look at John, "but still…"

John slid a hand between Rodney's thighs and tried to put him at ease. "So, what're you thinking, Mr. Never-Had-Sex-With-Another-Guy?"

Rodney obviously didn't see the humor. He glared at John and the sideways slant of his mouth meant he was serious. He turned away again to focus on something across the room. "Well, I uh…" Rodney rubbed his palms over his thighs. "I'd like to, I mean I don't know if you--"

John drew a deep breath and patted Rodney's thigh. "Just tell me what you want."

"I'd like to fuck you."

Whoa. John pulled his hand away, his mouth gone completely dry. Not that he hadn't thought about it, but he hadn't intended to bring it up and he never expected Rodney to consider it. He licked even drier lips. John thought a moment before committing. "We could do that."

"We could?"

They'd already had the talk about why John was so comfortable having sex with men. Rodney had seemed a little freaked out at first, but it was cool. He just didn't want Rodney to think… "Listen, you--are you sure, because, I mean, don't--not just because you think I want to or anything."

Rodney turned back to him. "Do you… want to?"

John nodded.

Rodney carried on then without missing a beat. "And since that would be something more, ah, intimate, you know, do you think… no, never mind."

"What?"

Rodney waved him off. "It's nothing, really."

"Rodney?"

"It's just, do you think there could be kissing involved?"

John stared at him stupidly, finally finding his voice. "You want to kiss me?"

"Okay, yes, I see what you--sorry, I--"

"No, Rodney… I meant, why didn't you ask before? Better yet, why the hell didn't you ever just do it?"

"Jesus, Sheppard, you know, this whole thing--I don't know, I didn't want to seem--"

"How about now?"

"Hmm?"

John jerked his shoulder toward his ear. "We could get that whole awkward first kiss thing out of the way now." He moved closer and leaned in; waiting on Rodney, letting him decide. He circuitously dried his palm on the blanket and waited, his pulse a dull thud in his ears.

Rodney made his move and after shifting angles and bumping noses, their lips finally met. Rodney's were sort of dry and restless, pulling away before he ever really got started, but even then John felt the promise of it, of that _something else_ with Rodney, and it kind of took his breath away.

"It's not a secret club, McKay," he said, voice soft and low. "You don't need a special handshake--just kiss me."

"Oh, yeah well, I guess I'm a little out of practice."

John tugged him closer. "Relax… you ever ridden a bicycle?"

"Of course." Rodney gave him a withering look, but John just smiled.

"Same thing… you never forget how." John ducked in and brushed his lips over Rodney's once, twice… and this time he drew Rodney in. It still wasn't perfect, but at least Rodney responded. His quickening breath and his soft lower lip dragging over John's were like fingers grazing over John's cock. By the time his hand found the curve of Rodney's neck, he was flat on his back with Rodney's hand between his legs. That awkward newness gone forever, replaced by that other kind of newness, the kind where you can't get enough.

John's chest grew heavy and he was certain they could both use a good lungful of air. "Damn, Rodney," he breathed, as darkening blue eyes looked down at him.

"Maybe we could get that awkward first fuck thing out of the way while we're at it." Rodney whispered those words but it could have been thunder crashing in John's ears and if the kiss hadn't already gotten him hard…

John groaned and pushed Rodney back as he sat up. He glanced at the bedside table where he kept the lube and a few condoms he'd procured 'just in case'. He tugged at the hem of Rodney's shirt and watched as Rodney pulled it over his head. Just this once, he hoped Atlantis could do without either of them for at least an hour. John didn't think that was too much to ask.

They lay next to each other; Rodney kissing him, fingering John's nipples as John coated a couple of fingers with the lube. He inserted one and then another to prepare himself a little and Rodney watched, the look on his face a mixture of awe and lust. His softly innocent, _"show me what to do"_, sent a chill of anticipation down John's spine and he would have been a liar if he'd said he wasn't as hard as fuck for Rodney.

Grunting at Rodney's hesitancy, John pulled his legs back wider to open himself more. He wanted to tell Rodney that this part was kind of like the bicycle thing, too, but instead he filled the room with soft-spoken encouragement that seemed to make Rodney relax a little and had him finally moving his hips in a smooth motion and, god it was good, it had been too fucking long.

John watched Rodney's face - lined in concentration, beads of sweat forming at his temples and around his neck. Just like anything Rodney did, he wanted to be perfect, and fucking John seemed to be no exception. In true McKay fashion, he took to learning new things with as much enthusiasm and as much exposition as possible. John didn't mind so much, though, as much of it was dirty and breathless and even the awkwardness - Rodney trying to keep his rhythm while jacking John off at the same time - left him coming hard, squeezing around Rodney's cock, which in turn set Rodney plowing into him so hard John thought he'd split him in two.

~~~~

He might have called out Rodney's name that night; he can't remember. Punch-drunk for hours afterward, he recalls thinking that perfect first times were as rare as triple plays in baseball, and while their first time wasn't perfect, Rodney's willingness to please had certainly made it memorable and something John wanted very much to do again.

He waves to a few of the Marines on patrol as he heads for the main tower. Yup, people look at him differently now. They throw that hero word around a lot, like he single-handedly turned back the Wraith or something. Hell, they even promoted him and gave him the military command, but that's little compensation to him. He'd gladly give it up to have Ford back, not to mention Everett, Sumner and the other men he lost. That was one thing you could always count on with the military, there was always more men, always new blood, and now it was pouring in. And not only military, new scientists and researchers. The best and brightest as Elizabeth says.

Truth be told, John hadn't really minded being cut off from Earth - well apart from that whole waking the Wraith thing - he'd kind of looked forward to the challenges of making it in another galaxy, forging alliances, trading technology when they could find it… or maybe it's what he'd hoped to leave behind that made him feel that way.

But all that and more changed with the arrival of the Daedalus and a ZPM.

~~~~

"Oh god, Sheppard---oh--" Rodney's voice was the same, raw and needy, even the words were exactly the same, yet something wasn't right. John paid attention to every touch, every inflection. He looked up to check Rodney's face in the dim light of the storeroom, cast in that same expression of pleasure John had grown fond of, full lip caught between his teeth, eyes squeezed tight. Still, something was off.

Rodney pulled away and tucked his softening cock back inside his boxers before John could lick away the last few drops. "Thank you," he said absently.

John sat back on his heels and watched Rodney quickly zip up as a dark, hard knot took root in the pit of his stomach. "Since when do you thank me?" he asked, wiping the corners of his mouth with his thumb and fingers.

"What?" Now Rodney sounded annoyed.

That was the last straw - John was tired of trying to figure it out. He tried to focus on Rodney's face as Rodney straightened up, because he knew that was where he'd find his answer, but the lighting prevented him from getting a good read. And Rodney wasn't helping, standing there with his hand poised over the door controls after what seemed like no time at all.

John hauled himself up and tugged at his crotch. It was obvious he was going to have to take care of that himself. "If you don't want to do this anymore…"

Rodney stared at the door but still didn't open it.

John smiled to himself and shook his head. "Okay, I get it." And he did. It was great, but it had just been one of those things you do when you think all is lost, and now that it's not, you don't have to settle anymore.

Seconds dragged by as John waited for Rodney to say something, just so there'd be no misunderstandings. If this was what Rodney wanted… but John saw it all in the turned down corners of Rodney's mouth. That meant Rodney didn't have to say anything. And he didn't.

John understood. He sighed and stared at the little strip of light beneath the closed door. It wasn't like shit like this hadn't happened to him before, he'd just promised himself, and… fuck.

~~~~

He'll give Rodney one thing, he's nothing but professional on missions or when he and John have to work together. Eerily professional. From the outside, it's like nothing ever happened between them. No more telling glances or late-night lab meetings, no time when they're alone together and no sex… just the business of the city as usual. And John's a big boy, it's not like his heart is broken or anything, it's just kind of numbing and as long as he keeps anything resembling real feelings to a minimum, he can do his job.

Even in Pegasus shit happens for a reason. As the new military commander, he'll stay accountable to the Air Force for a while longer, not to mention have the eyes of the SCG and the IOA on him, so it's better this way, really.

He stops by the gym to pick up his stuff and begs off Teyla's offer for a late round of sparring. Scrubbing the thick towel over the back of his neck, he heads for the nearest transporter. A hot shower, that's the ticket, and then sleep.

Back in his quarters, he strips, kicks his sweaty clothes aside and pads into the bathroom. Turning the shower on as hot as he can stand it, he lets the dull, relentless crash of the water smooth out some of the kinks in his shoulders. It works with the endorphins from his run to ease him into a comfortable haze that's interrupted after a moment by the snick of the shower door and a breeze across his backside. He freezes, not bothering to turn around.

"Taking a shower here, McKay, you mind?"

It doesn't surprise him when a strong hand slips over his shoulder and with all the heat surrounding him, John still shivers. His heart begins to pound. He'd turn around and drop to his knees in a second; he wants to, and he hates that about himself.

Instead, he sucks in a deep breath and pushes Rodney's arm away. "Do you mind?" The door closes with finality and he leans forward, forehead flat against the cool tile. His lungs hold onto that breath until moments later, when he hears the door again, when wet, naked arms encircle him and Rodney's cock brushes the tops of his thighs.

He fights for all the self-control he can muster. "McKay?" It's meant as a challenge, but it doesn't quite get there.

Rodney reaches past him for the soap and begins to rub it over John's back in slow circles. "Miss me?" he husks in John's ear, soapy fingers playing over John's nipples and despite himself, John shivers again.

"Why, you been somewhere?" John's voice is a coarse attempt at defiance, even as he pushes himself back from the wall closer to Rodney.

Rodney's hands massage soap into John's chest, then roam down to his stomach, over his hips and around to his ass. Holding his moan in check, John drops his head, his full, thick hard-on greeting him as he opens his eyes.

McKay's lips work the nape of John's neck; his words vibrate against John's skin. "Let's just say sometimes people can reach inaccurate conclusions."

John snorts and leans back a little more. "People can… not you."

Rodney chuckles as his hands ease back to John's hips. "Close your legs."

"And the new botanist?" John stands his ground. He can feel Rodney's smirk curl against the curve of his neck.

"Dr. Brown? I find her interesting, you know someone else to talk to beside the team and the mindless minions." Rodney drags his lips up to John's ear while wet fingers dig into John's slick skin. "Now close your fucking legs."

John wants this, but he figures why make it easy. "Hmm, so the doc's not putting out… that why you come to me?" He grits the words out as Rodney kicks John's right ankle in, then slides his dick between John's slippery thighs. John forgets all about resistance then, moaning at the tickle of hair and the brush of Rodney's stomach against his ass. He claws the tile at the wet slide of Rodney's cock, the way it adds lead to his own. He wants to take Rodney's hand, guide it there and John's arm twitches just once before Rodney pulls back and slowly turns him around, pulling him close.

"Is that what all this pouting's about, Sheppard?"

For the first time since Rodney stepped in the shower, John's aware of the spray of water. He blinks it from his eyes. It's been months, dammit… and anyway he's not pouting. He reaches up and pushes wet hair off his forehead, spitting water toward the drain… anything to keep from saying that out loud.

Then Rodney's mouth is on his, hard and demanding, just like his hand taking hold of both of them, slick and hot and as rough and raw as John's breathing, and fuck, John's on fire, every inch of him alive, blood racing through his veins. _This_ is what Rodney does to him. It could all blow up tomorrow, but John still wants this - for however long and whatever way Rodney will give it to him. John acknowledges that weakness and despises it, but the alternative, walking away from Rodney altogether, isn't really much of an option.

John's had enough casual sex to know this is more than aimless rutting in search of getting off. No matter Rodney's actions, there's something in his eyes when he looks at John, something in his voice when he calls out John's name and goddamn it, he doesn't want to give it up without a fight.

But Rodney could. What if he still believes he has to have a woman to make him happy? What if he does need a woman to make him happy? Do you pick up the pieces and turn away then? What the fuck is the difference, there's just fewer pieces now. Why wait?

But John can't answer those questions, he can't even care what the answers might be right now, not with Rodney hot, wet and naked against him, mouth grazing John's neck, fisting them both, taking John higher and higher.

He braces his palms against the cool tile as if somehow that will stop him from jerking his hips with Rodney's rhythm, sliding against that slick cock, as if that will help him ignore the way Rodney works the heads together and, sweet Jesus, somehow keep him from coming first, from crying out Rodney's name, begging him to follow.

But bracing himself achieves none of those things and John's thighs turn to iron as he watches Rodney spurt next, letting go, rubbing his dick back and forth over John's stomach as his stuttering breath teases John's ear. Nope, the only thing the tile's good for is keeping John from ending up a puddle on the shower floor. That and Rodney's weight pinning him to the wall and he'd say something but Rodney's mouth finds his again and then John fights for a grip on those wet shoulders, holding on while Rodney rocks into him, pulling one of John's legs up over his hip, making sure that every drop, every spasm is spent and there's nothing left. Nothing.

~~~~

They lie on John's bed where they fall, naked and still a little damp. John shifts and stares at the ceiling, waiting for Rodney to say something or for that light little snore that says he's out for a while.

"You didn't come to me, either," Rodney says finally. "After…"

John shrugs into the soft warm shoulder at his side.

"So all this is really about Katie?"

His tongue darts over his lips before answering. "This is about nothing, McKay. The threat of impending doom is over and suddenly there's a way to get back to Earth, and--"

"I don't want to go back to Earth." John feels the weight of Rodney's stare. "And I don't want to have sex with Katie… not really. It's like I said, she's someone else to talk to and anyway, she hasn't been here long enough to find out how screwed up I am."

John means his glare to be hard as he turns to Rodney. He really hates when Rodney tears himself down. Hates him thinking the only thing worth boasting of is how smart he is. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn't, just slides his hand closer to Rodney's thigh, barely brushing the warm skin.

"Actually, I think I'd… rather have sex with you."

John narrows his eyes. "You think?"

"Don't look at me that way. I thought--Christ, I'm confused. I don't know what I'm feeling here, okay. All I know is… I don't want to stop."

John welcomes the slow glide of Rodney's fingers across his chest, but his words cut John to the quick, because he's been there, right where Rodney is now and he wishes to fuck he'd had someone then to show a little understanding, someone he could have shared his feelings with. And it's not the way Rodney's face is all screwed sideways or the frayed edge of his voice that bothers John. He can ease that. It's his own contemplation of giving in. If he does it now, there's no going back. With Rodney, there's no such thing as just sex… and that scares the shit out of him.

John's face softens, but he can't find the words. He just reaches for Rodney, lets Rodney pull him closer and kisses the tips of the fingers Rodney trails along his jaw.

"This is the best I can do right now," Rodney explains. "Do I want to keep seeing you, yes. Do I want to keep having sex with you, yes, and not because we're under some doomsday threat. I want to." And there's that thing in Rodney's eyes, that look that catches John's breath. "Okay?"

John nods. He understands it's the best he can hope for but he also hears the words Rodney doesn't say. Maybe this will all go to hell, but maybe…

Rodney tips John's chin forward. "We could just go with it and see where it takes us…"

He nods again and when he answers, his voice is dry and cracks a little. "We could do that," he says before Rodney leans in to kiss him, a kiss so wicked hot and tender it's the essence of Rodney and John holds on to every second of it.


End file.
